


Soulmates

by Galahard



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Well sayings really, soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:09:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3714448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/pseuds/Galahard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Harry Hart's 16th birthday he not only gets his soul mark.</p><p>He gets a complete sentence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulmates

Like every other fifteen year old Harry Hart was staying up for the instant that he turned sixteen.

It was hard to stay calm, mind racing as if somehow, at the last moment, he could change the outcome of the mark. He didn’t really care all that much if he had the first half or the last half of _their_ saying. If he got the first half, the capital letter, the word setting their path then he would get to be surprised to find out how their phrase ended. If he had the last half, the period or question mark (hell, even an exclamation mark) he would have the pleasure of knowing he had completed his soulmate. 

He didn’t even care where it was, just so long as it appeared, as long as he wasn’t one of the small percentage of the population that didn’t have a mark. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would be with someone, no matter what Trevor in his history class said.

The clock stubbornly refused to run faster, but he held his breath as it clicked over to 3:43 am.

Sixteen.

For a horrifying moment nothing happened, and then a blossom of pain unfurled just under his collarbone. It was short, he could tell that, and he looked into the mirror, heart thrumming with excitement.

The handwriting looked rushed and sloppy, but that wasn’t a big deal. A capital. He was the beginning.

His excitement halted abruptly as he noticed the period at the end. The dot jabbed into his skin after merely two words.

A full sentence.

A completed saying. Complete within a single individual. Rarer still than a not being marked at all.

When he told his mother he wasn’t feeling well the next morning he could see the pity flash in her eyes but all she did was softly tell him she would call him out of school.

He knew she assumed he hadn’t gotten the mark, and he would let her believe it. Better for her to think that than to find out that she supposedly had a completed son. A son that felt the aching wound in his soul where another half was meant to be.

\--------

Most days it was easy enough to convince himself and everyone around him that he was whole. An entity so sure of himself, so confident and satisfied with everything that he was, that he didn’t even desire another part.

In truth he envied the ones that deserved and desired their completed marks. He’d once spent a lovely evening with a woman with a full poem draped around her throat, and he could see the appeal. Could see how for the right person a completed mark was a blessing.

It made his work at Kingsman easy. They sent him on assignments people with a soulmate could never handle, and he threw himself into his work until his reputation was sealed. Never admitting that sometimes, in the quiet of his own home, he threw up until there was nothing but bile coming up, haunted by the thought of having a soulmate. Someone that would be hurt by the fact that he’d been with another, or perhaps one that understood his job, that would make him forget the time he’d spent in another’s arms with a simple caress.

After days like that he would stare at the two words, forcing himself to acknowledge the capital letter. The period. The completed phrase as stupid and ridiculous as it was. Perhaps that was it. If he had had a saying with meaning, purpose, one that invoked a reaction other than snickering, perhaps then he would be a normal complete.

It was the mark that let him walk without qualm out of the church, knowing that while Merlin and Eggsy would be upset by his death no one would be devastated. No one out there would have their mark burn once more as the words faded to barely more than an outline on their skin.

\--------

Waking up had been as much a surprise for him as it had been for everyone else. Oh there were consequences, that much was certain, and he was still stuck in bed two weeks later, propped up with an almost excessive amount of pillows.

“Got any sevens?”

His mouth tightened slightly and he moved to pluck the card out of his hand and held it out. “Are you sure you’re not cheating?”

Eggsy just grinned at him and speared another bite of kung pao shrimp with a single chopstick, not even wincing at the extra spice he’d asked for. “Against an invalid? Fuck no, I’d never do that. What about threes bruv, got any of those?”

They didn’t even bother counting the matched pairs by the end, Eggsy all too happy to pick up the cards as Harry snagged one of the bland cookies from the takeout sack, cracking it open and eating a small piece just to cleanse his palate somewhat before setting the rest aside. 

“Oi, ain’t you going to look at your fortune?” Eggsy reached for it but Harry didn’t try to fight him for it. “Ignore previous cookie. Well that’s shit.”

“Most of them are,” he pointed out dryly and Eggsy just ignored him.

“Some of them ain’t too bad, or they ain’t at least if you play the game. Let’s see what I got.” He ripped open the second wrapper, cracking open his cookie and not even bothering to eat it. “You’ll be hungry again in one hour. No shit Sherlock. These are fucking terrible.”

“I see we can agree tonight then,” Harry replied. “I don’t know if I know the game you were talking about though.”

“You probably wouldn’t like it,” Eggsy said with a shrug. “You just take a fortune and add a couple of words to it. Sometimes it’s fucking hilarious actually so I was hoping we’d get something decent.”

He didn’t seem too concerned as he absentmindedly swept their trash into the bag the takeout had come in. “Actually it works pretty fucking well with my mark, yeah?”

Harry knew about his mark, knew how happy Merlin had been that his protégé was another complete. The marks themselves weren’t recorded in the records, but his status was.

“Lets just use that, yeah? So my mark is “Do your best to make it happen.” Don’t sound half bad, does it.”

That was so very like Eggsy, to just throw his soul mark out there, all of the easy confidence of a complete. “But if you’re playing the game you got to add to the end you see? Do your best to make it happen. In bed.” He grinned and shrugged, wincing a little at the way Harry was just staring at him. “Yeah, I know, it’s kind of stupid but that’s what people do. They add “in bed” to the end. Shit, I wish I had a better example, it just always kind of seemed to fit.”

No words were actually coming to his mouth so instead Harry just reached out for the collar of his shirt, yanking the neckline down as he stared at Eggsy’s collarbone.

His own handwriting stared back at him, an unadorned but clearly legible scrawl. He was unaware of how hard his hand was shaking until Eggsy’s covered his, easing it away with a questioning look in his eye as he looked at Harry.

“How did you know where to look?” There was a look in his eye, cautious but curious, and Eggsy’s gaze darted down to Harry’s collarbone as Harry managed to lift a hand, pulling his robe aside.

The words had been a hidden part of him for so long, shown only when necessary for work, that it felt odd exposing them now.

“Holy fuck.”

“Holy fuck,” Harry repeated, still not quite sure that he was understanding this correctly and finally finding his voice. “Do you mean to tell me that my soul mark has been part of a ridiculous fortune cookie joke this entire time?”

Eggsy winced. “Uh, maybe? Wait, don’t you, aren’t you, you’re a fucking complete though, right?”

Harry lifted a hand to rub at his temples, shoulders starting to shake as an almost hysterical laugh built up inside him as he realized that for the first time in his entire life everything actually made sense as he finally looked back up. “Not without you.”

A grin was starting to steal across Eggsy’s face. “I fucking like the sound of that,” he admitted, and he was already starting to lean forward by the time Harry grabbed the collar of his shirt yet again, dragging him in for a lingering kiss as the rest of his soul finally slid into place.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah this is just nonsense, thanks for reading anyway! As always I'm Galahard on Tumblr as well if you want to visit in either place!


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